About

Jesse Daniel makes his living on the road, but he never really left home. Not in his heart, at least.

“I grew up in the San Lorenzo Valley on California’s Central Coast,” he explains, “and I carry it with me everywhere I go. The mountains and creeks and redwoods, all the people who lived and worked and died there, they’re what made me the artist I am today.”

Son of the San Lorenzo, Daniel’s extraordinary new album, is more than just a tribute to his home, though; it’s a story of triumph and perseverance, of love and sacrifice, of growth and transformation. Recorded live to tape at The Bomb Shelter in Nashville, the collection offers up a candid accounting of Daniel’s remarkable journey, from his early years hitchhiking in the shadow of the Santa Cruz Mountains to his tumultuous adolescence and battles with addiction to the people (and music) that ultimately saved his life. The songs are raw and cathartic here, often steeped in longing and fueled by deep, unflinching introspection, and the performances are warm and timeless, blending the classic sound Daniel’s become known for with the California country rock he was raised on. Put it all together and you’ve got a lush, cinematic work of reflection and rebirth from an artist committed to personal and sonic evolution, an album that embraces the past while keeping its gaze fixed firmly on the future.

“I felt like I was finally ready to stop running and face things head on with this record,” Daniel says. “I felt like I’d matured enough to go deeper than I ever had before, to try and understand how I get here and where I’m headed.”

Born and raised in Ben Lomond, CA, Daniel got his start playing guitar and drums in a variety of local bands, but trouble found him early. By the age of 12, he was already drinking, and by the time he hit 18, he was addicted to heroin and crystal meth. He bounced in and out of jail and rehab for several years with little hope for recovery until he began devoting himself to music and fell in love with his now-fiancé, Jodi Lyford.

“I’d already overdosed a couple of times, and I realized I was at a fork in the road,” Daniel recalls. “I could find a way to get clean and hold on to these things I cared about so deeply, or I could let it all go and continue down the path I was on until it killed me. I chose love and music, and it was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Daniel would go on to release five critically acclaimed albums over the next seven years, building up a devoted international following through his relentless touring schedule.

“I spent most of the last year on the road doing headline dates, festivals, all kinds of shows,” says Daniel, who also found time to contribute the theme song for comedian Dusty Slay’s Netflix special, Working Man. “When I had the chance to come home for little breaks here and there, I found myself called back to a lot of the music I’d grown up on, California stuff like the Byrds and the Eagles and the Flying Burrito Brothers, but also classic rock like Led Zeppelin and the Allman Brothers and the Stones.”

As a result, Daniel decided to approach the recording sessions for Son of the San Lorenzo in the same way those artists had worked in the ’60s and ’70s, cutting everything directly to tape with his touring band (and a little help from some special guests including harmonica legend Charlie McCoy, Lynyrd Skynyrd keyboardist Peter Keys, and Steel Drivers banjo player Richard Bailey).

"I wrote, arranged and produced this record myself,” he explains. “I also took charge on a lot of the sonic direction—percussion, rhythm and lead guitar, harmonies, etc.—which I think is a really important piece of the puzzle given how personal these songs are."

Daniel’s guitar is the first thing you’ll hear on Son of the San Lorenzo, which opens with the hypnotic “Child Is Born.” Drawing on folk, blues, and southern rock traditions, the track sets the stage for the album to come, both lyrically and sonically, as Daniel meditates on the cycles we inherit and the work it takes to break them. “Child is born / Child grows old / Same old story / Gets retold,” he sings over a reverb-drenched slide guitar. “Keep them safe / Feed their souls / Heal your wounds / Raise them whole.” It’s a mission statement that turns up throughout the collection: the soulful “He” offers up the kind of guidance Daniel wishes he’d gotten (or listened to) as a juvenile delinquent; the blistering “One’s Too Many (And A Thousand Ain’t Enough)” shares hard-earned wisdom from the other side of the wringer; the poignant “Time Well Spent For Man” (written by California songwriter Nick Forster and recorded here with Charles Wesley Godwin) honors what really matters in life; and the waltzing “Son of the San Lorenzo” explores the meaning of home and the myriad ways that it shapes us.   

“I actually wrote the title track years ago when I was first cutting my teeth in bars and clubs in the San Lorenzo Valley,” Daniel explains. “People started calling me the ‘Son of the San Lorenzo,’ and it just kind of stuck. I'm proud to have it as a nickname.”

The San Lorenzo Valley and its inhabitants—past and present—are all characters on the album, brought to vivid life through Daniel’s deep love and reverence for them. He savors days gone by and contemplates the impact of the landscape and community on the amiable “Mountain Home,” introduces the cast of unsavory characters he fell in with as he thumbed his way up and down Highway 9 on the driving “Crankster,” and puts a modern spin on the traditional murder ballad form with some local lore on “The Ballad of Love Creek.”

“The house I grew up in was up a steep mountainside in the redwood forest,” he recalls. “Down the canyon a ways, a stream called Love Creek ran behind our home, and its history dates back to the 1850s, when a California Ranger named Harry Love purchased the land with the bounty he earned taking the head of notorious outlaw Joaquín Murrieta. It would go on to become the site of the state's deadliest landslide, as well as a grisly murder. As a kid, I’d spend entire days playing in that creek and exploring the rubble, and you could feel that heavy spiritual energy.”

While Daniel is a natural at bringing people and places to life, his true gift as a storyteller lies in his ability to imbue his tales with broader philosophical revelations. The tender “Jodi,” for instance, ruminates on the importance of surrender and sacrifice while paying tribute to the partner—and frequent creative collaborator—who helped Daniel get his life back on track; the towering “My Time Is Gonna Come” learns to find meaning and purpose in the journey rather than the destination; and rollicking album closer “The End” celebrates the act of creation as an essential—and never-ending—function of our humanity. “Find the precious moments,” Daniel sings. “Make the dots connect / Do it all again.”

“I’m the Son of the San Lorenzo, and that story needed to be told,” he reflects, “but once it’s been told, it’s time to move on and tell the next story. Then, do it again. Repeat. Until the end.”

Who knows where the future will take Jesse Daniel. One thing’s for sure, though: wherever he goes, he’ll be bringing the San Lorenzo Valley with him.