The Art of Letting a Chapter End

Twelve years in any band is a lifetime in musician years. Honestly, twelve years in any job is a long run, but twelve years touring, rehearsing, recording, laughing, arguing, eating, and growing with the same group of humans is its own kind of beautiful roller coaster. That’s what my time with Bria and the band has been. A ride through so many versions of myself that it feels like I’ve lived a few lives inside this one gig.

When I joined the band, I was twenty-eight. I had just moved to New York with an agenda that feels almost foreign to me now. I was hungry in that young musician way, chasing possibility and trying to plant roots in a city that couldn’t care less whether I stayed or went. I didn’t have a family yet. I didn’t know the shape my life would eventually take. I was just ready to play, ready to prove something, ready to see the world with sticks in hand.

Now I’m forty. I’ve got a wife I adore, a child who changes my whole outlook on the world, a home, and no dog… yet. My goals have shifted. My perspective has matured. And I’m stepping into a new chapter as the Director of Programs at the Jazz Forum in Tarrytown, New York. It’s a place full of music, laughter, education, community, and a kind of love that surprised me in the best way. It’s the next stage of my life, and one I’m walking into with intention.

But before I step fully into what’s ahead, I’ve been taking time to reflect on what these twelve years have given me. The truth is simple. I wouldn’t be who I am today without this band. And a huge part of that comes from Bria.

I tell people all the time that she’s the best bandleader I’ve ever worked with. And I’ve worked with a lot of incredible folks over the years. She leads with clarity, kindness, humor, and a real understanding of what her musicians need to do their best work. She takes care of her people. That is not something you can fake. It’s something you either live or you don’t. Watching her do it helped me understand the kind of leader I want to be as I take on my own responsibilities at Jazz Forum.

Transitions are tricky. They stretch you. You can be excited for what’s next while still feeling nostalgic for what’s ending. But growth asks for these moments. You don’t get to evolve without letting old versions of yourself retire.

So here I am, in Denver on December 10th, 2025, starting the first show of my last run with this band. It’s a Christmas show because of course it is. I’m excited to play with the cats tonight. I’m excited to finish this chapter the same way it began, doing the thing that brought us all together in the first place.

And I’m excited to watch how the band evolves without me, just like I know Bria is excited to see what I’ll build at the Jazz Forum. That’s the beauty of these transitions. You don’t lose the story. You just carry it forward into a new one.

Twelve years. A lifetime in motion. And now a brand new beginning.

Darrian