Where is Joe Samba? The New England-born singer, songwriter, guitar master, and general musical phenomenon is hard to pin down, literally. First, there is his chameleon-like ability to move seamlessly from job to job and place to place. Are you looking for Joe, the touring musician? Good luck! He is seemingly always on tour or playing somewhere, usually far from where he was the night before. Or perhaps you’re looking for Joe the father? His family is always with him. They live in his heart and mind, and you can 'see' them every time he sings a song. Maybe you’ve been drawn into his orbit and find yourself helplessly lost in his high-energy music, as so many of today’s top young artists do, lending a hand on his songs. Maybe you’re searching for Joe in his music, but then, which fan are you? Is he Reggae? Blues? Hard Rock? Jazz? Ska? Funk? Punk? My head spins trying to capture where he is in this crazy world. Fear not! Joe has assembled a high-energy, good-feeling set for you. Joe is throwing us a Lifeline.

We spoke to Joe about the new album, touring, and life in general. He is truly humble and disarming with his easy manner. My first Joe Samba concert was at Everwild in 2022. I remember him asking the crowd to buy his merchandise so he could afford diapers. His first son is out of diapers now, but the Samba tribe will soon be adding another. “A never-ending cycle of diapers,” says the man about to launch what I believe is one of the best albums ever.

GW: You grew up in New Hampshire, and your father is a bass player, so you must have had lots of music in the home when you were younger. What types of music were in the home, and which artists stand out the most to you now?

JS: My dad was a big funk guy, so without knowing what he was playing, I found out later it was Tower of Power, Jaco Pastorius, and Weather Report—all this fusion jazz he would play. Later in life, I would come back to these songs and think, “Hey, yeah, my dad used to play this stuff.” I think the biggest one was Tower of Power. They really stand out. I have them tattooed on my leg. Soul, Funk, R&B—that’s what he would put on around the house. But he’s a product of the 70s, so he would play Black Sabbath and all those 70s rock bands.

GW: That really shows in what you do. You’re kind of a chameleon in that every tune is different. It’s always Joe Samba, but never quite the same.

JS: I’m glad you caught on to that. The theme has been good songwriting, no matter what genre, with a taste of reggae.

GW: What genre is your favorite?

JS: Like I said, Funk, Soul, and R&B—there’s no way I can’t start nodding my head or start grooving to Funk.

GW: With kids in the house, I have to ask—what instrument are you going to teach them to play first and why?

JS: My son naturally gravitates to drums, which is a great place to start to get a feel for rhythm and groove and feel for things. I’ve always sung, and I started with drums. After you get the idea of feeling a song through rhythm, piano is the second thing to get you integrated with chord structure and tones and different ways to mess with rhythm, adding musicality. You can translate piano to any other instrument from there. You know, whatever they pick up, I’ll always encourage them, whether it’s music or whatever.

Joe Samba’s latest release, Lifeline, like his previous releases, is unashamedly undefinable—pure good music that refuses to sit in one basket. Come with me and take a verbal listen to what awaits you on these superb 10 tracks:

We start our voyage with Cultural War. A hard funk beat takes us back to the great funk tunes of the 1970s. Reminiscent of Larry Graham or Edwin Starr, with its driving rhythm and punchy horns, this tune is a winner right out of the gate. The lyrics are biting, following along with the current cultural climate. A nod to the great funk masters of the past, this song could fit in anywhere in the 70s, but it’s brought to a younger generation to make their own. The instruments drive the music along using diminished chords, resolving with vibrant choruses.

GW: What inspired you to write Cultural War?

JS: I’ve been sitting on that groove for years, wanting to build it into something. The melody came to me over time; I was in my little home studio, and it all came together. I tried to relate to current events and people talking about all these subjects that need to be talked about but without taking yourself too seriously. You like this song, so do I, so let’s dance and have a good time. That’s the idea—take yourself less seriously. We all have struggles and hard times. Put our differences aside and put on some good tunes and vibe together.

GW: I’ve heard your dad is my age. You know we grew up in one of the most contentious times in America. We lived it. How has that dynamic affected your music?

JS: Good question. You know, not being a product of that era, it obviously shaped the culture you grew up in. Thinking about current events now that are happening in my era, it’s so relatable. There are so many relatable things happening now but so many different wild things, too. In the 70s, some of these conversations would never have been had. It goes back to finding something common we can all relate to as people, no matter if you’re from the 70s, the 90s, or my son’s age. Music is something we all have in common. If you don’t like at least one song, there’s something wrong with you. It’s the one common ground we can all talk about.

GW: At your concerts, you really grab the audience’s attention, and your fan base is so large and diverse. How do you feel about leading the charge with such a large, diverse fan base?

JS: I am honored. It kind of happened accidentally, but it’s a cool role to have. I’ll be able to stir people’s souls with my sonic alchemy.

Next, we slow down with a little encouraging tale titled Cold Feet. The music brings back memories of George Benson. The entire song feels like an intimate couching session we’ve hopefully all had with an adult. Joe takes us aside and speaks to us honestly with true heart. The bass and drums hold the structure of a classic rock beat while the lyrics use a modern rap feel. The feel is small and close, like a late-night jazz session, and gives the listener a feeling of being in the moment.

GW: This song evokes encouragement. Do you find yourself encouraging others?

JS: It’s just natural. I learned a long time ago not to take myself so seriously. It’s very easy to get stuck. I took it back, and I’m going to write about how I’m feeling. It’s an easy statement to say, but it’s really hard to find the words that will make it into a song. The song Cold Feet just came to me through my own trials of being a human being, not being afraid of taking that next step in life. Like moving out of my parents’ house—I was really comfortable for a while, but something needed to change. You’ve got to make the change. It’s really hard, but once you see that you can do it, even thrive doing it, it’s worth it. It takes that leap to get out of the realm of whatever insecurity you have.

GW: The song feels like a time we’ve all had when a coach takes us aside and tells us we’ve got to do what we’ve got to do.

JS: Speaking of coaches, I got to work with Eric Krasno of Soulive and a former member of Lettuce. He’s doing a lot of musical production and directing for a lot of these musical events. He’s been an idol of mine, and to work with him and have his musicality behind it all was massive.

Time to lighten the mood and get us singing along with the happiest tune imaginable, Little Love. This happy beach tune bops along, leaving us joyful and more positive. Be careful—listening to this one too often will make you a happier person, and people will wonder.

GW: Obviously, this is going to be a great hit with Joe Samba fans. The song fits the smiling, happy persona we all associate with you. Is this who you really are, or just a part of your complexities?

JS: Absolutely!

GW: I love the island groove. Is that from your time in Key West?

JS: Definitely played a factor in the influence, not purposely. I really got into Bob Marley, and I got into my Jimmy Buffett phase. When I was living there, there was inspiration everywhere. I’ve always played the ukulele, and I always try to include one song that has ukulele in it. For this record, it was Little Love. It was the first song we put out because it’s quintessential Joe Samba, and I hadn’t put out music in two years, so I wanted it to be a gift for people to hear.

Now Joe is ready to take flight with the musical fantasy Lost Boy. This mischievous tribute to J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan has us daydreaming. Real musicality with complex rhythm and dynamics (Have I mentioned that Joe is a real musical genius who uses all the tools of the trade?) draws the listener in, painting an unmistakable picture of flights into the night, pirates, and swordplay. Enthusiastic drums grab the listener and pull them along on this fantastical, magical musical tapestry. The horns push from the sides, redirecting the listener to the main theme. The entire wordplay ends in discord as the fantasy is broken.

GW: As a child, I remember the ride Peter Pan’s Magical Adventure, where the traveler boarded a pirate ship that sailed over a miniature town and through vignettes from the plays. Your song took me right back there. What possessed you to pick this subject?

JS: Honestly, it started going back to Key West. I felt like a lost boy during COVID. When I moved to Key West, I met so many like-minded people who were all transplants. During the pandemic, people who normally traveled the world went to Key West. My buddy Matt Cuyler started a company called Lost Boy Creations. He’s from Connecticut, and I’m from New Hampshire, so we have a lot in common. He spent time in the Virgin Islands surfing, and he ended up in Key West and started this brand. We both helped each other out. You know, we’re both New England boys, and from his brand to what I’m doing musically, we vibe pretty well. These hats I wear every night on stage are his. That’s what started the inspiration. I had the song, and the hook just fit perfectly for that theme of Peter Pan and the Lost Boys. Key West was our Neverland. We were trying to figure ourselves out, and it’s just a fun little island.

GW: I’m a great admirer of your musicality. The song ends on a dissonant chord. Why?

JS: ‘Cause it’s different.

GW: It kind of brings me back to reality.

JS: That was kind of the objective. Anyone can end it on the root; in the bridge, I do that note, and I thought it would be a cool way to end it. Thinking about it deeper, after it has been mixed and mastered, the dissonance kind of keeps you on your toes. I have friends who are music video producers, and they say that chord kind of wakes you up. You’re in this Neverland where you never grow up, and then you hit that dissonant chord, and it’s like it brings you back to reality, and you’re sitting at an office desk wondering what you’re doing with your life. There are so many different meanings behind it.

Time for a little heavy message. "Communicate" really speaks to all in this timelessly introspective voyage. This cut is for those seeking the days of Jimmy Cliff and Peter Tosh, where the music just flows. The quintessential point for humans to hear and respect each other resonates. Great harmonies add to the complexity of the message in this wholesome tribute to Roots Reggae. It’s definitely a song for the broken, but also for all of us just wishing to get along.

GW: Many of us feel we can’t communicate in today’s world. So much has changed, and so many friendships ended just by a word or possibly by a lack of listening and understanding. What was the inspiration for this song?

JS: I struggled with communicating with people for a long time, not purposefully, more due to my own insecurities. The theme started when I began touring all the time, and there were all these friends I never saw anymore. You know, we all started having kids, buying houses, starting our careers. You go from hanging out all the time to thinking, “Shit, I haven’t talked to my buddy Nate in three years.” What’s going on? I see him on Facebook, but you know, I don’t see him. So, it’s about meeting up with your buddy after all that time, and it’s like no time has passed at all. I talk about that in the song. The chorus is more about how I’ve been lucky to have music as my way to communicate with others. People who can’t communicate well and feel stuck, worthless, or don’t even care to express their feelings because they’re so depressed. The idea was to be a voice for them, and if they listen to it and resonate with it, maybe they’ll start thinking about communicating more. That’s the deep reasoning behind the song. It came naturally. I didn’t think, "I have to resonate with these people," I just write about my own experiences and how I feel, and I hope it resonates with people. I want them to understand the feelings I’m expressing in the song and relate to them, so we can communicate.

GW: From the musical side again, I appreciate the song's ebbing and flowing. The music builds, then subsides; harmonies are added, then the voices retract to unison, and the dynamics match the mood/message. All of that seems planned yet organic. How did you create the balance between the music and the message?

JS: It’s how it comes out. I’ve been writing songs since I was a kid. My goal is always to perfect the song. Commercially, five-minute songs aren’t a thing anymore, so you have to fit it into this two-and-a-half-minute song. There are just so many ways you can go with a song now. You have such a short amount of time to express it, so it’s like, why would I just do the same thing when I could do it all? It’s about doing it all but tastefully. A quote that I try to relate to in my career is from Tom Brady after he retired. He said, “The reason why I am planning my retirement is the amount of mediocrity that is in football now.” Things have been dumbed down for the masses. He was there when there were more hits, not as many flags, and less complaining, and I can relate to that in music. I see a lot of mediocrity in modern music, and I would like to be that dividing line. You can still be creative; AI isn’t going to take it right away. I’m going to show people my expressions, and this is how I do it. It can be tasteful and not too much, catchy without being mediocre.

We’ve come halfway round and are rewarded with the hard-hitting rocker "Meant to Be." Punchy, soulful, and engaging, Joe is certainly on his way to make things loud. This song has become my afternoon treat, the one I find myself restarting over and over. It sneaks into your head as you lay daydreaming and brings you back to the world. Yeah, some things are meant to be.

GW: I put this one on repeat all the time.

JS: Are you a hip-hop guy?

GW: No, but this song is so relatable. We are on our way to make things loud. How are you able to make this song so teaching without being preachy? How do you do that?

JS: I don’t know. I steal this quote from Victor Wooten all the time: “The song already exists, I just find it.” You’ve got to find the song; it’s already in the ether. It’s about timing and where you are in life and what you want to get across to people. This is another song I did with Eric Krasno. It started with the music. He sent me the files with the beat, and I just started writing the music. The feel of the song was, "I am going to own this." I just started writing, and the idea is, this is the path I chose. This is the suck that I have to endure, touring as a musician. It’s not the easiest or most glamorous thing, but I’m going to do it the hardest I can.

Time to set the party into overdrive with the Ska barnburner, "Surfside"; what a romp! The band takes off for the weekend led by Captain Joe and his pontoon. The trombone is unleashed, and one of the most impossible drum lines ever created gets us up and dancing. From the minute we step onto that pontoon until long after sunset, the adrenaline rush never subsides. We are all along for the festivities as we run to the sun and sand. Jarv delivers the proclamation to have a good time hanging with the crew. I can already envision fans moshing in the burning midday sun to the infectious tune.

GW: This one ignites my mind as we start off on a voyage with Capt. Joe on his pontoon, and then you give us this screaming trombone.

JS: Yeah, that’s Billy Kottage. He plays full-time with the Interrupters, an amazing Ska Punk band. He’s local in New Hampshire, so getting him on tracks is always fun, and he enjoys doing the tracks.

GW: The song is so real. We all have that friend who’s like, "Don’t sit on the porch; get on the bus, let’s go."

JS: "Surfside" is an actual place, a burger bar in Meredith, New Hampshire, and it’s reggae-themed. He lives right on Lake Winnipesaukee. He’s got the pontoon, and every time we’re up there in the summer, it’s like, let’s go: music loud, smoking joints, and drinking beer.

GW: I think we are all ready to go with you.

JS: I say it’s like a modern-day "Cheeseburger in Paradise."

"Home," featuring Mihali, another Roots Reggae tune, is solidly in the realm of the master Bob Marley himself. The artist brings us right into his life and struggles to balance needs versus wants. He extols the hopes and dreams that one day his son and wife will realize all the sacrifices he has made to make a home for the family. Poignantly, he reminds us all that our home can be anywhere with the people we love.

GW: This song hits so close for many of us. I know many of us hope that our families appreciate what we sacrificed to provide the best life for them. Is that how your family reacted to this one?

JS: I think so. The first time I showed it to my wife, she cried. It’s relatable, it’s a real thing. This is another one I collaborated with Eric Krasno on, and it has Mihali, who’s touring and has a family. It’s one of those songs that, like you said, it’s "Home," and even though I’m still renting, I hope that all this work will allow us to buy that home.

GW: Again we return to the constant image of a voyage, leaving the dock, out to sea. What brought this imagery to you?

JS: I think the image just comes to me; I just feel that. I use a fisherman as a metaphor for what I am doing because I’m gone. I use the sea as a metaphor for the road because I have a young son and a wife who is pregnant, and I have to leave, but that’s what I do for a living. That’s how I keep the roof over our heads. It’s a necessary and tough thing to do. The song goes out to everybody—the military people who have to go to sea for weeks at a time. It’s a crazy life, and things get hard. I always say the support system I have at home is the only thing that keeps me going. If I didn’t have a family, I would have less purpose. Did you get the album artwork?

GW: No, I missed that.

JS: My wife did all the artwork, and it’s very nautical. I didn’t even put two and two together until she made it, and she said all your songs have a nautical vibe to them. We started our lives together in Key West, and she found a lot of old pictures. There is just a lot of meaning behind it, and I wouldn’t have thought of it like that until she made the artwork.

GW: Sounds like she gets you very well.

JS: Yes, more so than I know myself.

Time to shift into low gear with the cool jazz "Break Free." Reminiscent of the greatest '70s jazz masters like Isaac Hayes or Al Jarreau, the song is icy and aloof. A real departure from the rest of the tracks, but a welcome addition for us in the "Joe Samba can do anything" camp. Clean, crisp instrumentals meld with soul-dripping vocals to produce a song you see as much as hear. The sound of a dark street lit by a single streetlight, alone with your thoughts. Yes, somewhere out there, a great story now has a theme song.

GW: This tune is so soulful and moody, it feels like a title track for a movie or television show. Do you have any aspirations to produce music for the visual arts?

JS: Of course. I do a lot of TV commercials back in New England. The idea of a jingle... I’ve sung every genre known to man for whatever is trying to be sold. I think songs that I’ve been creating—I can see them on a TV show. It’s not the reason I am writing, but it’s always there.

Joe has grabbed us, taken us to the highest highs and pulled us through the lowest lows. Now he reels us in with "Lifeline." Anthemic and strong, the last tune is right where it belongs. Our hope for the future and our connection through the music are all neatly packaged in one place. Family, friends, and new acquaintances mix with love, joy, and revelry as we are pulled to safety. Has Joe saved the best for last, or is the last really just a repeat button, like a lifeline giving us another chance for another day? Only you and Joe know.

GW: You brought us full circle now. We’ve traveled along on your voyage, and we get one last musical hug from you. "Lifeline" ties up the whole concept but also leads us back to the beginning. Honestly, a lifeline pulls the unfortunate back home where you started. Do you feel your music as a continuum? A conduit from beginning, back to beginning, rather than beginning to end?

JS: I am so glad you’re nailing that because I struggled with whether it should be the first or last song. It’s not purposeful. I’m still new to this album, and I have a three-year-old, so it’s hard to get through without interruptions. I chose to put it as the last song to culminate all that you have heard. On all my albums, I have one song that is for me and me alone, and for this album, it’s this one. It’s the story of me and my wife rekindling our love, trying new things together, moving places, and trying to figure out what we are going to do. Just trying to put all that information into a three-minute song was tough, but I wrote it for me. I wanted to write a great song, but that one is for me and my family. It’s my wife’s favorite song.

Where is Joe Samba? As we travel from track to track, our emotions run to joy in the music, then to an emotional state as we understand his clear message, finally ending with a little sadness as we want the music to go on unending. But all good things need beginnings and endings. Joe Samba isn’t in our boombox or car radio; he lives in the live concerts. Live, the music is stretched and pulled like a living entity. For those of us lucky enough to say we experienced him as he was starting out, Joe Samba will always be in our hearts and minds. Where is Joe Samba for you? Grab this new release as soon as it comes out on September 27 and play it on repeat, then get to one of his concerts. You too will know where Joe Samba is—he’ll live in your heart.