Hank May
One More Taste of the Good Stuff

Hank May’s debut record, One More Taste of the Good Stuff, is the story of a room. To be specific: it is the story of a sound-proofed practice space that his father built for him in the garage of his childhood home in Los Angeles, where he recorded and pieced together these eight songs. It is also the story of solitude. After spending much of his 20s living in New York and working at the erstwhile DIY venue, Palisades, May moved back home both to be closer to his family, and because he felt like he was stagnating artistically. It is also the story of a loss of a close friend. May’s best music friend, and biggest supporter, passed away from an overdose back in New York. He felt he needed to make him proud, and this record is dedicated to his memory. Back home, May was able to concentrate on his craft, and was finally able to take the particles of phrases that had existed in his head and turn them into art.

To make One More Taste of the Good Stuff, May would spend all day in the little room, adorned with Christmas lights, listening to music and making music. He calls the room his private karaoke bar. This isolation, while beneficial creatively, left him longing for human connection. You can feel that on the songs on this record. Indeed, One More Taste of the Good Stuff is a record that is about giving yourself space to grow. It is also about people, and what it means to feel both alienated and close to others.

There was also the question of a deadline. May’s father announced that he would be demolishing the practice space. May and his band decided to do some tracking at the nearby Tropico Beauty. When they finished, May hunkered down and finished his overdubs as the demolition team tapped their wristwatches outside, eyeing the little space where he was laboring over the record.

You could call One More Taste of the Good Stuff a study in auto-fiction. The stories May tells here are nearly autobiographical and are infused with elements of fiction where it suits him. Take “Patsy DeKline,” as one offering. The song is inspired by an encounter May had buying a guitar on Craigslist from an aging punk woman who performs under the name from which the song derives its title. He recalls going into her space, and seeing the walls plastered with old posters, and ashtrays loaded with spliffs. “Keeping her corgi at bay/Posters of Kurt Cobain,” he sings as guitars delicately jangle and May’s voice softly searches for the words to describe this strange, visceral encounter. On “High on LCD,” loneliness and a need for connection is once again at the forefront. May sings about a failed romantic encounter, specifically a bad Tinder date. “But I’m laughing when I tell her why/it breaks my heart that our hearts don’t jibe,” sings May, the irony and honesty in his voice palpable.

The record features contributions from long time collaborators and good friends. Bassist Patrick Taylor has been in May’s life since high school. Mark Gardener plays drums and works at Old Style Guitars and does work for people like Blake Mills, and Max Foreman plays keys. Brian Rosemeyer (Cat Power, Kurt Vile) is the record’s mix engineer, and Dave Cooley (Paramore, Tame Impala), hopped on mastering. The result is an album that feels like a love letter to a best friend, like one of those phone calls where you talk about anything and everything.

For more information, please contact Kate Rakvic, Ethan Jacobs,
Colin Lodewick, Samantha Tillman or Carla Sacks at Sacks & Co., 212.741.1000.