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I was in an easy listening mood one evening just days before Christmas, in the winter of 2022, and bought a ticket to see celebrated trumpeter Chris Botti’s late show, with a 10 p.m. start, at the legendary Blue Note Jazz Club on W 4th St. I stood in the back by the bar and sipped on an espresso martini as Botti curated the show, consisting of himself and a host of rising musicians with the opportunity to share the stage with him and present themselves to a wider audience. One of those musicians was a suited-up singer and guitar player named John Splithoff.

John called for a scotch; neat, I believe, to be brought to the stage, and effortlessly crooned his way through a selection or two. Most notable was his guitar playing, which was skillful yet subdued in order to cater to the aura of the room.

Splithoff, a versatile instrumentalist, songwriter, and vocalist, was immersed in old soul and classic rock music through his developmental years and cut his teeth in multiple music-geared cities into early adulthood. This exposure can be heard across his latest record, Far From Here, as its songs reveal themselves to be time stamps of his travels, musical ventures, and emotional journey. The Doo-Wop nature of the title track, journeyman feel of “Plateau,” and interconnectedness of “Same Page” and the instrumental only track “Dancing on the Cliffe” are just several hints into Splithoff’s erratic musical mind.

A little over two years following that Botti show, Splithoff hit the road as a headliner in support of the new record. I recently caught him at Ardmore Music Hall in Ardmore, PA, and was struck at the balance of the classical nature of the musical presentation onstage with the more casual, lighthearted approach output towards the audience. Splithoff, donned in black jeans and an open black sweater with a white tank, was sophisticated yet humorous in his banter, and made sure to hold eye contact with each audience member, wrapping each one around his finger. He did this while discreetly motioning cues, ins and outs, and extensions to his multi-piece band. The ease in which he did this could almost certainly be attributed, in part, to his time with Botti, which is discussed in this interview. 

Just like at The Blue Note, his playing in Ardmore was sensational. He sang and played the guitar with intent, unleashing lengthy yet relatively manageable, though still exceedingly impressive. Though not once did he come off as flashy. He came off as skilled. Refined. A student ready to teach but still willing to learn. 

OnesToWatch: What were the long-term lessons you’ve come out of your tenure with Chris with? 

John Splithoff: Man, he’s a legend. He has dedicated his whole life to touring and to music. Our working relationship started when he heard my song “Raye.” I was still living in New York, and I went to see him at the Blue Note three or four months before moving from New York to LA, and struck up a bit of a friendship there. After I moved to LA, he texted me and asked if I’d want to be a part of a new record he was working on, so I was like, ‘Man, I’d love to do something original. I have this song I wrote a long time ago…’ He really dug it. It was the experience of recording music in that way. Super out of my element. We’re at this beautiful Apogee Studios in Santa Monica and you’re working with so many people. Everything is live. It’s a live album. He’s got David Foster producing it. All these world class incredible musicians, and you’re just there. You see how decisions are made. It’s way different than when you’re working on an album or song by yourself or with one other person. Everybody wants to make the best thing they can, represent themselves, and contribute in the best way possible. And to respect everybody else’s time no matter who they are or what they’ve done in their career. 

From a touring aspect, I didn’t know if I was going to tour with him for a month, two months. But, it has been a long time now. I took some time off to do this tour of my own and lead up to it, but three days after this wraps, I’m going to Asia with Chris for a month. Then over the summer, he’s doing 12 shows with David Foster and I’m going to be a part of that too. He tours year-round. I think in my experience with touring, you put out an album, you have like, a single tour for a couple of weeks and some festival dates. He’s done it enough where it’s just a well-oiled machine. Touring is super hard no matter what level you’re at, whether it’s on the tour bus, or flying from gig to gig, or you have the backline set up for you. There are different levels of cushiness to it, but it’s difficult no matter where you’re at in your career. 

It felt very casual but instructional. It was cool to see that kind of relationship be built between audience and performer and performer and mentor. 

We’re out here on my own tour right now and it’s the best feeling in the world to be on the bandstand with people you really respect as musicians. And everybody who comes to the shows, you see them mouthing and singing along to new songs. Something you made is finally resonating with people. But it’s also exhausting. You get used to running on adrenaline, and even when you’re tired you still find a way to do it. I learned a lot of that from Chris too. It’s the lobby calls at four in the morning or you’re overseas and far from home and you don’t even know where you are in the world. But, when it comes time to perform, you’re still doing what you love to do, and you find that energy and that inspiration to be yourself. 

Is there anything that you see, or feel, or sense, when you’re getting ready to play a solo? When the audience is receiving this conversational piece from an instrument? 

You always want to be in control, but sometimes you surprise yourself by discovering something different about how you’re feeling. The energy reaches a different level, not just because of you playing the solo, but because of whoever is backing up the solo. It’s really powerful communicating with the people around you. The band, the people that came to the show. You strive for that inspiration to hit as often as possible, but you also want to control where you can dismount and it still feels like, ‘Wow, let’s go off that.’ 

Whether it’s a guitar solo, or a vocal solo off the cuff, it’s important to be able to listen and watch what you do back, to learn from it. Whether it is or isn’t as good as you thought it was in the moment. There are times when I get down on myself about the sound of the show because it didn’t sound right onstage and maybe I’m feeling like that translated to how it felt for the audience. That if I’m not inspired, they’re not inspired. But, that’s not the case either, because you don’t know. It’s never as bad as you think it is. [He ponders this thought, and smiles] Maybe it is, depending on the situation. But there’s always something to learn from.

Now, during your most recent show, I noticed you were giving codas, you stepped out of shot during other people’s solos… how did you learn to do the bandleader thing?

Just by doing it a lot. Gigging, playing clubs growing up and in college. Club gigs and wedding gigs when I first moved to New York. Playing my own shows, in other bands. You go in and out of feeling comfortable with it if you don’t do it often. I did all these solo shows the last few years… I was more in control, because it’s just me and a guitar or piano and the audience. Then, if you’re out of practice with playing with other people, you have to get reacquainted with communicating with people onstage, but it’s also how you’re addressing things offstage. There’s bedside manor for how you talk to the people you work with and play with. Also, seek out other people who are doing it. Go see live music often. No matter what your takeaway is, you’re going to feel something no matter what. 

There was suave quirkiness to what you were doing that felt very egged on by the live element. How do you lean into that, and add your natural personality. without it coming across as a caricature?

It depends on the situation. I’m not always the same way. Depending on the song I’m doing, I could be in a certain mood. But then, from the people who are there, I kind of get that energy and take it and that comes out in certain ways. Not taking myself 100% seriously all the time. Trying to inject some humor. This tour has been a way of getting reacquainted with those aspects of being myself onstage. 

What made Chicago a place that didn’t necessarily work for you that made you feel more comfortable elsewhere? 

I wanted to go to college. One was in Illinois. I didn’t get into NYU for musical theatre. But then I got into the University of Miami as a jazz major. It felt different. From then on, I graduated and went home and made our five track EP with my buddy in Chicago, which was an absolute blast. But, I was always intent on going to New York, where my brother was, where my best friends from school were. I grew up visiting New York for most of my life, and I was so infatuated with it. Every time I went there, I was like, ‘This is where I need to be.’ Then I went, and I’m so grateful for the time I spent there. Even being there on this tour for two days, you take that energy in small doses, only being there for 48 hours, but it’s so powerful. 

The stories you’re telling on this album… on “City Days,” “Way Back, “Plateau,” “Kyoto Snow,” all seem extremely sonically influenced by where you were at the time, what you were feeling in that moment. How do you take those feelings and experiences and apply them to a sound? 

I think the sonics came before the theme or location. I’d make it and think, ‘This sounds like where I was.’ “Plateau” happened… I was still living in New York. I made that instrumental and it made me feel like I wanted to drive, in the desert, for a long time. Then, it just took my mind to when I WAS in the desert, and how powerful that memory was. Being in an open space and changing things up and how great it felt to not be in the metropolitan area. From there, I worked on a couple more songs that are on the record, and co-wrote the title track with my buddies Chris and Jesse. That title glued everything together for me. Times, places, change, and how much change can has happened in the last three years, and what these places mean to me. 

A lot of these songs are steeped in the influence of Stevie Wonder, Earth Wind & Fire, people I know you grew up on. I know you also did a Pink Floyd tribute band at one point, too [He looks at me incredulously, pleasantly surprised by the mention of it]. Was there a song on this record that took the longest, or felt the hardest to complete, that isn’t so closely associated with some of those early influences? 

I feel like no track on this record was really difficult to make compared to other songs in the past that I’ve done. It just took a long time from being on tour, traveling with Chris. A lot of this record was done in hotel rooms, under the ‘solo lamp.’ A hot lamp shinin’ down on ya as you eat your Uber Eats at the ‘sad desk,’ as we call it. The difficulty was getting things to the finish line, which took three years. But at no point was I really bummed out about it. Working on this record was like therapy. It felt very relaxing, peaceful for the most part, and that’s been where my head has been at with making new music. 

“Same Page,” “City Days,” and others feel like the lyrics pop off because there aren’t a lot to distract from them. Do you think the descriptiveness of these songs are best executed in a way that compliments the instrumentation, but doesn’t overwhelm it? 

“City Days” is a very unique sounding song to me. You have this bossa nova sounding guitar, and a drum sampler loop going on, and my buddy Kyle playing brushes over it. When I think of New York City, I don’t think of bossa nova guitar, but I was very influenced by Flight Of The Conchords. Comedy duo. Growing up and watching them and their show had an affect me. They had the song “The Most Beautiful Girl In The Room.” It takes me to this earnest infatuation with the city in the early days and how that relationship progresses.

“City Days” has a lot more going on underneath the vocals, while “Same Page” is more stripped down. Very minimal vocal harmonies to fill up the space. I think it’s all about figuring out what best serves the song and serves the idea you’re trying to get across, and what you want people to feel and how you feel. 

What does “Dancing On The Cliffs” represent to you? 

It represents memories of a place with somebody else. Whenever you think of it, it makes you feel at home, and loved, and inspired. “Dancing On The Cliffs” and “Same Page” are the same thing. My friend always says, ‘It’s very Toy Story.’ It has that whistleable thing. It’s all about time and place.