Patrick Dennis, formerly of Wirepony and Truckee Brothers, is set to drop his solo debut Fürst in the Dirt on June 19. A little indie, a little punk, a little country and a lot rock & roll, the record was inspired by letting go of personal demons.  It was, Dennis said, “A stack of fragmented ideas that came together quickly and energized into songs because it was finally time for them.” It didn’t hurt that his band—Cosmic Thug’s Adam Landry, Deer Tick’s Rob Crowell and Collins of Diamond Rugs—brought inspiration from Los Angeles to Nashville with them. “You let them do what they do best while you get on with what you do best,” Dennis said of his colleagues in music. Along with delivering the exclusive premiere of his song “The Last Drop,” Dennis talks to Myspace about his earliest memories of playing in a band and why he is finally releasing a solo album.

Hometown: San Diego by way of Las Palmas, Spain.

Current residence: Hollywood, California, land of TMZ dreams and beautiful waiters.

How did you discover music?

More like it discovered me. My great-grandfather, Emmezar Prince, taught me songs from his bed playing on his old cowboy guitar. When I’d go home my mom would let me demolish her giant dreadnought acoustic carrying it around our little cottage as a four-year-old singing his songs and ones that she had taught me. So music was always around.

Talk about the first time you realized you wanted to sing and perform for others.

My cousins and I had a fake band as kids and we’d put on shows in the family house until the adults started expecting something cute from us. That was it for me so I became a drummer, sweated it out in my bedroom learning how to put it all together and then went looking for a band. A noisy high school pubescent-post-punk band called ‘Carnival.’ We immersed ourselves in The Clash, Iggy Pop and The Replacements, our band were noisemakers. We became the local house-party band, getting shut down by the cops always five songs in. Uncanny. We were loud, I’ll give ‘em that. But getting shut down just made us more determined to play. 

What's the first song you ever wrote?

Probably something about “Where the Wild Things Are” magnetized to tape on my mom’s long dead cassette recorder with that big old acoustic guitar that I could barely get my 4-year old arms around.

The first song I scribbled for my high school band was a meandering, slow-building lyrical response to Hemingway’s short story “White Elephants” called “The Faith Remains.” When we played our first gig girls sure liked that tune a lot so I felt vindicated, but it probably just meant that I’d spend my life subconsciously and pretentiously trying to write that song over and over again.

Who were your childhood heroes?

My old grampa with the cowboy guitar! Until I stole The Beatles, The Moody Blues and The Ramsey Lewis Trio from my dad’s record collection when he suddenly “found God” and decided to sell the lot to some lucky young dude.

Apparently, I’d cry every time I heard Bob Dylan as a baby. Now he is fused in my DNA. Then there’s Willie Nelson, who I hated then, ‘cause my dad, who is English, used to make us listen to his gospel record every family trip we took and those were long trips through multiple states. But I’ve thanked my dad many many times since then though for inadvertently teaching me how to phrase. Willie is the king of that shit. And Sinatra. And Van Morrison. Then an artist friend introduced me to punk, X, the Replacements, Hüsker Dü, Buzzcocks, then David Bowie, Waterboys, later Nina Simone and anything that had a truth and a brilliance to it.

Why is your debut called FÜRST IN THE DIRT?

“Fürst” is an obvious pun, this being my debut solo-album. But Oscar Wilde was haunting my mind at the time. His words, “We are all of us in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars,” just hung with me. I was also drawn to the contrast of the words “Prince” and “Dirt” for some reason. With “Fürst” being German for “Prince” I thought I was making a smart-arsed pun that also fed into this Wilde-inspired idea that you can be dirty and still full of spirit, soul, reaching high, not a prince by birth but an inspired ringleader by your own ideas.

The oddest thing though was that I wasn’t even consciously thinking about my great-grandfather whose last name was Prince, or his young wife and children sleeping in a tent on the roadside between Texas and California in the mid-1930s while he collected scrap metal to feed them. There was a prince actually in the dirt! How did I not even relate it? A prince that worked his way up, bought land, built a house and raised his kids teaching them to look out for anyone else that needed a little help. And he taught me my first songs! Even since the album went to the vinyl plant I’ve discovered that the roots of that end of the family are actually German and traceable back to the mid 15th century. Startling considering I always thought of myself as English with an Irish heart, and I chose a German album title. Was I subconsciously naming my record or having it named for me? I’d say it’s all a bit spooky.

If you could write a soundtrack for any TV show which one would it be?

The Six Million Dollar Man starring Lee Majors! If it was still on the air. Or Californication! Also off the air, but at least more recently. I’m a big film buff so truly I’d love to score anything by Alex Garland who just directed Ex Machina and wrote the movie Sunshine or anything by Danny Boyle if he’d bring one of his epic pieces to television. I’m a huge fan of great movies and filmaic style TV. I’ve written scores for a couple indie films and had a blast doing it, so, your question is a good one. I’d love to do more, the heavier and more off kilter the better.

What's the creative process like in songwriting for you? 

It comes in waves, usually all at once and in batches. Ideas can gather one line at a time for months and then suddenly it all comes flooding out. I try to be disciplined but it never really works out that way. That’s how Fürst was; a stack of fragmented ideas that came together quickly and energized into songs because it was finally time for them. I also like to set up situations that I know will inspire me. Like working with these particular folks in this particular studio. It’s all about casting. You gather compatriots that you know will bring inspiration with them and you let them do what they do best while you get on with what you do best. Unless you have a distinct strong idea that should override them, then get out of their way and let it lead you somewhere new with what you’re doing. That’s inspiration. And it can come from sights, sounds, a snare hit, pieces of conversation or things you read, news, novels, people you meet, an encounter in a bar, the taste of life on your tongue, a kiss, a memory, anything your senses pick up. It’s just always there if you’re looking for it.

You were in notable bands before; why go solo now?

Well there’s notable and then there’s notable, but thank you. We were just small fry hard-working touring bands, but probably didn’t realize the impact that our music was having out in the wider world. We had a good run, both bands, but we self-destructed from the pressure of exhaustion really. Right on the brink of things coming together for us. It happens far too often. Boring old story really. So, why solo now? It wasn’t intended. When I first started writing for a new record I thought it might evolve into a Wirepony album, but that group was in its final days so it just didn’t happen. When I finally began recording it was with no intention to actually make another record at all, I was simply recording music with my talented friends because we all lived nearby in Nashville and I wanted to make noise with them. There was no plan, no agenda. It sort of dictated itself, guiding me without my knowledge. It became a solo record by default. Now I only have to argue with myself, and believe me, I do plenty of that.

Are you a big reader? What books have had a big impact on your music?

Voracious reader! Writers and thinkers have always had an impact on me. Poets, novelists, social commentators, philosophers, comedy writers, take your pick. The great poets Federico Garcia Lorca, William Blake, Robert Graves, Rumi, Yeats, Novelists like Column McCann, stories by Malachy McCourt, fascinating histories like Under the Black Flag. I’m reading Jim Harrison right now; one of the great American writers who’s always flown just below the public radar, certainly below my radar until recently. I feel like I’ve found a compatriot who gets it. Our stories are very similar in ways; both very early fathers, religious as teenagers, found a different sort of earth-bound faith as adults, trying to keep ourselves creating while raising kids. Too bad I didn’t find him a long time ago. He might have saved me a few hard earned lessons. He probably handled life better than I ever did.

I also have my friend Ben Johnson’s debut novel, A Shadow Cast In Dust, dog-eared next to me. He’s one of the owners of The Casbah and a hell of a front man in San Diego bands, but I think his literary career is going to overshadow all of that. A great first book with a spooky twist on the tourist mecca that is San Diego.

What personal experiences are you most inclined to write about as a singer-songwriter?

The life that’s happening all around us. There’s nothing off limits. Nothing worth missing if it moves you. We’ll just see what happens next, shall we?